Mater Samich Smilin'

If you’ve noticed more people smiling lately and are wondering why that could be, given the dreadful situation we find our nation in, it just might be caused by the return of “kitchen sink mater samiches.”
Sure July is hot and June must have set a record for being the hottest June ever, and only the Good Lord knows what we may be in store for, come the dog days of August, but let me tell you what I’ve been filling up on lately. Cantaloupes, watermelons, real peaches, and real tomatoes. Don’t take exception to the descriptive word “real!” You know it’s true! I just can’t bring myself to make a tomato sandwich out of those grocery store cardboard tomato look-a-likes. Yuk!
And did you ever go to one of those fancy shmansy restaurants or to a big-time meeting where they put out some things that looked like cantaloupes, honey-dew melons and watermelons that couldn’t reach the stage of ripeness if it had a head start. Where in the world do they get those things anyhow? Guata-dadgummed-mala in the dead of winter?
Give me a break!
My brother described a true tomato samich as one in which the person devouring it had to hold said samich over the kitchen sink in order not to allow the juice to flow down their arms onto their belly. When you think about it, that makes real sense, doesn’t it? Today, I made me one out of an entire tomato, done thusly. Apply generous amount of mayonnaise to two pieces of bread. Peel all the skin off the tomato, being careful to allow the red juice to wash through your fingers onto the plate where said bread is awaiting. Add salt and pepper to taste. Slice the tomato into thick Portions and crowd them all onto the bread before topping it off with the second piece of bread. Allow the juice to soak into the bread. Take a sharp knife and fork with you to the front of the Braves baseball game, and cut little tid-bits of the samich to fit into the mouth. When you get down to the last little bit of that samich, be sure to scrub it around on your plate to allow no juice to escape. When you are through, you will notice the plate is as clean as it was when removed from the dishwasher. The plate is now ready for a second samich.
Now if this wasn’t enough, Sheila made me a peach cobbler, and I was fully armed with some white ice cream to go onto the hot southern treat.
My brother, Billy, called me tonight and guess what the conversation was about? If you guessed mater samiches and fresh Georgia peaches, you guessed right. He said he wished he had some right then. I suppose it wasn’t nice to rub it in, but what the hey? We both married Florida girls—cousins to be exact—and I brought mine to Georgia .